It’s easy to picture life as a balancing act on a tightrope. Just you, two buildings, a long rope, and dizzying heights. I’ve always been partial to this analogy. There is a thrill in trying to balance, a sense of accomplishment when you manage to stay upright, and worse comes to worst, falling can be rather fun too–once you get over the initial shock of your life falling apart. And you can always pick yourself up and try again.
As comforting (or scary) as that mental image might be, I think it might be oversimplifying things a bit. Life isn’t just one tightrope, it is an intricate web of fine lines.
There is a fine line between contentment and apathy.
Between confidence and arrogance.
Insecurity and pride.
Self-awareness and self-obsession.
Optimism and misplaced hope.
Kindness and manipulation.
Patience and cowardice.
Self-protection and selfishness.
Trust and naivety.
Discernment and judgment.
There are so many fine lines weaving in and out of each other. In a way, they make it easier to stay balanced, when you have a web of ropes to walk on instead of just one. Yet it feels
impossible to maintain a healthy balance in one area of life without crossing a line in another.
I have no resolution to this post, because I don’t know how to walk on one tightrope, let along a couple dozen. You see, there is also a fine line between thinking to understand life and thinking to avoid life. I may not be able to get far without falling, but I’d rather fall than get tangled in the web.